Chapter 35 Pack Rhythm

Chapter 35 Pack Rhythm
Chapter 35

Annie’s POV

The pack had a rhythm.

I learned it long ago—the way the halls breathed at dawn, the way guards changed shifts, the way laughter usually drifted from the kitchens before breakfast. It was subtle, but when you lived among wolves long enough, you felt these things the same way you felt a storm before rain.

That rhythm was broken.

I noticed it before anyone else did.

When I stepped out of my room that morning, the hallway was empty. Not unusual. But the silence felt wrong—too alert, like something was holding its breath. A guard stood near the stairs. He straightened when he saw me, his back stiff, his expression too careful.

“Good morning,” I said.

He hesitated. Just for a second.

“Good morning… Luna Annie,” he replied, voice tight.

He didn’t meet my eyes.

I walked past him slowly, my steps measured. My wolf stirred uneasily inside me.

They are afraid.

“I know,” I murmured under my breath.

Downstairs, the pack house was awake. Wolves moved about, carrying baskets, cleaning, talking in low tones. As I entered the common hall, conversations dipped—not stopped completely, just softened. Like a hand placed gently over a mouth.

I kept my face neutral.

I had learned how to do that years ago.

A maid crossed my path and nearly collided with me. She froze, eyes wide, then bowed so quickly she almost dropped what she was holding.

“I’m sorry,” she rushed out. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Are you alright?”

She nodded too fast. “Yes. Of course. I just—” She stopped herself, then stepped around me, moving away like she feared staying too close.

I stood there for a moment, the air feeling heavier around my chest.

This was new.

Before, there had been ease. Respect. Quiet confidence in how they spoke to me. Now there was distance. Like an invisible line had been drawn, and no one wanted to cross it.

I continued walking.

Outside, the training grounds were busy. Warriors sparred, their movements sharp and focused. Sweat, dirt, and power filled the air. This place had always grounded me.

As I approached, one of the warriors paused mid-swing. His opponent followed his gaze—toward me.

They both stiffened.

I gave a nod.

“Carry on,” I said.

They obeyed, but the rhythm was off. Their movements were hesitant, distracted. One of them glanced at me again, then quickly looked away.

I clenched my jaw.

I trained with them. Bled with them. Protected this pack.

What changed?

I didn’t need to ask.

I already knew.

Celeste’s words didn’t strike like claws. They slipped in like smoke. Soft. Careful. Poisonous.

By midday, it was impossible to ignore.

I passed through the corridor near the council room and heard murmurs behind a partially closed door.

“She didn’t mean harm,” someone whispered.

“I know, but still… if Caleb comes...”

“The Alpha wouldn’t allow...”

The door shut.

I stopped walking.

Caleb.

My fingers curled slowly.

I forced myself to breathe and continued on. I would not eavesdrop. I would not explain myself to whispers. I had done nothing wrong.

Still, the ache in my chest deepened.

When I reached the outer grounds, I saw Riley.

He stood near the edge of the training field, arms crossed, posture relaxed—but his eyes were sharp. Observing. Always watching. That was the thing about him. He noticed what others missed.

For a moment, relief washed through me.

Then I realized something else.

He was noticing.

I watched from a distance as a guard approached him and spoke quietly. Riley’s brow furrowed slightly. His gaze lifted, scanning the area. His eyes landed on me.

They held.

Something flickered there.

Confusion.

Concern.

I looked away first.

I didn’t want him to see the crack forming inside me.

I moved toward the forest path, needing space. The trees had always been honest with me. They didn’t whisper. They didn’t judge.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

“Annie.”

I stopped.

I turned slowly to face Riley.

He stood a few feet away, tall and steady, his presence grounding even when he said nothing. His eyes searched my face like he was trying to read something written between my breaths.

“You’re avoiding the main grounds,” he said.

“So are half the pack,” I replied lightly.

He didn’t smile.

“They’re avoiding you.”

The words landed quietly.

Precisely.

I felt my throat tighten, but I kept my voice calm. “Wolves get distracted. It happens.”

Riley studied me for a long moment. Then he shook his head once.

“No,” he said. “This is different.”

He turned slightly, gesturing toward the pack house. “This morning, a maid flinched when you spoke to her. A guard asked permission before standing near you. And when you entered the hall last night, conversations stopped.”

I said nothing.

His jaw tightened. “That has never happened before.”

Silence stretched between us.

Finally, I spoke. “People talk.”

“Not like this.”

I met his eyes then.

“They’re afraid,” I said softly.

Riley’s expression hardened.

“Of what?”

“Of who I was,” I answered. “Of who might come looking for me.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose. “Someone’s been reminding them.”

I didn’t say her name.

I didn’t have to.

Riley’s gaze darkened. His shoulders straightened—not in anger, but in resolve. The kind that made alphas dangerous.

“You earned your place here,” he said firmly. “No one forgets that overnight.”

“They can,” I replied. “If the right voice tells them how.”

He was quiet for a long time.

Then he said, very calmly, “Who’s been speaking?”

I hesitated.

This was the moment.

If I answered, things would change. Lines would be drawn. The quiet war Celeste started would no longer be quiet.

“I don’t want trouble,” I said finally.

Riley stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Annie. Trouble is already here.”

I looked at him, truly looked at him.

And for the first time since the whispers began, I felt something other than pain.

I felt seen.

“I worked for their respect,” I said quietly. “I won’t beg for it.”

“You won’t have to,” he replied.

There was steel in his voice now.

Behind us, the pack moved—uncertain, watching, waiting.

And in that moment, I knew something had shifted.

Riley had noticed.

And once an Alpha sees a wound in his pack…

He does not ignore it.